


Of all the Dreams to Remember

by Webtrinsic



Series: The Hitman Richie AU [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: BAMF Richie Tozier, Banter, Boys Kissing, Dogs, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Love, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Murder, Nightmares, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Slurs, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Swearing, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Eddie has a nightmare that ends with a death certificate, courtesy of his hitman husband. The secret being, Eddie doesn't mind at all.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: The Hitman Richie AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1524464
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	Of all the Dreams to Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wendibro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wendibro/gifts).



> THERE WILL BE ONE MORE PART TO THIS SERIES BEFORE I END IT BUT HEY SOMEDAY IT MIGHT REOPEN BUT FOR NOW THERE WILL BE ONE MORE HITMAN AFTER THIS
> 
> (also beware of the homophobic slur used if you're sensitive to that)

It took one nightmare of a very distant and buried memory to make Eddie realize he’d seen malice and a protective addicting fury in his husband before, just very long ago. More along the lines of twenty something odd years ago.

The nightmare itself had left him breathless, flashes of his head submerged in grey water cutting up his lungs making his ribs coil. When waking up it wasn’t with a jerking sprawl of energy, his eyes had opened wearily, as if opening them too quickly would show him something he wasn’t ready to see.

Gentle breaths echoed behind him, familiar breaths filled with what Eddie could only assume was fatigue or comfort. A tingle of achievement ran up the hypochondriacs' spine at the notion, Richie slept so deeply in the comfort of their home or their friends homes, nowhere else. 

He didn’t think he himself could go back to sleep, not after that, and as much as he knew he’d dread it later in the evening, or even week if his sleeping schedule really suffered, for the moment anything seemed better than risking a continuation of that horrid day.

Slipping out from under the covers, Eddie risked a passing look at the clock, knowing the time would only further his worry but if he didn’t check his brain would only beg and plead until he did.

Four fifty eight, a gentle exhale escaped at that, it wasn’t too terrible of a time, he could work with that. It wasn’t an ideal time to wake up on his weekend off but he’d known his whole life that things weren’t always fair.

Padding out of the room with socked feet, Eddie glanced at the new couch, he couldn’t bare to look at the old one some time after the gun incident, so with a slice of Richie’s check, a new couch and chairs took up their living room.

The soft pitter patter of paws nearly sent Eddie up into the air, especially as the little Pomeranian rubbed up against his ankle. Crouching, Eddie lifted Chapstick into his arms, his prized pooch seemingly understanding his strife.

Eddie hunkered down on the couch in front of the TV, making sure to firmly place his finger on the volume so when it turned on he could quickly turn it down without waking up his husband. It didn’t take him long to find something to watch, he remembered watching Full House when he was younger, sure it was cheesy but reassuring. Also it totally had nothing to do with his teensy weensy crush on Danny Tanner.

After several episodes the light began to filter in, his eyes were weighing him down but he refused to sleep. Chapstick nosed along his chin, twirling in his lap and Eddie knew it was time for him to eat.

“What are my two favorite things doing up?” Richie called out from behind causing the smaller man to flinch back. It was noticeably enough he saw his husband’s sleepy smile falter. The taller man didn’t waste a moment in jumping over the back of the couch, a strong arm tethering his husband to his side.

“Mm I didn’t know I classified as a thing, Chapstick doesn’t appreciate it much either,” Eddie retorted without his usual mirth. Richie took his husband under his arm, pressing his lips into the smaller man’s temple, clueless at what else to do because his Eds didn’t seem to be all there at the moment.

“Hmm, I’m sorry I meant husband,”

“That applies to Chapstick too?” Eddie murmured, leaning back into his husband's embrace, some of the stress on his shoulders depleting, yeah, he was safe, it was over and Richie was here, just like he was back then, always there.

“Nah I’m currently in the process of being his wingman, he’s trying to hitch that lovely mittens,” Richie didn’t say it with much enthusiasm, his concern clear as his arm rested heavily around Eddie’s shoulders.

Eddie moved up a hand without thinking, cupping Richie’s face in a backward embrace before slipping it further until it was tangling in his curls. The smaller man didn’t turn fully, feeling far too self conscious to look at his husband as he placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Mhm, I’m sure he appreciates it,” 

Richie, not wanting to sit by for another second, shifted in a quick but precise movement, burying Eddie’s smaller frame beneath his own so they were properly laying down, his small hypochondriac quickly setting down Chapstick so he wasn’t squished between their chest.

Instinctually Eddie reached up over Richie’s shoulders, trying and failing to wipe the blush off his cheeks as they began to kiss languidly. The comedian counted it as a win when he felt Eddie’s tense shoulders sink further into the couch beneath them.

“You’re. Not. As. Per-suas-ive. As. You. Think,” Eddie said in between each kiss, massaging the comedian's scalp, and silently congratulating himself for not feeling the need to cringe away from Richie’s morning breath blowing back into his mouth.

Shaking his head fondly, Richie didn’t let up when Eddie gave his hair a tug. 

“Then. Why. Is. It. Working?”

Eddie chuckled, “Chapstick needs to eat,” he managed to get out clearly, pushing up at the wide chest atop his own until the man yielded, pulling them both up from the couch.

“C’mon Eds,” Richie very firmly led Eddie to the kitchen, careful of Chapstick jumping over their feet.

“You’re making me miss the show,” Eddie tried halfheartedly, picking up Chapstick’s bowl while Richie got the food.

“And you only watch Full House when you’re upset, so talk to me,” Richie pointed out, setting the bowl down and taking the chance to trap Eddie between his arms against the counter. 

“I just had a bad dream,” Eddie admitted softly, reaching up and bracing his arms against his husband's enticing, imposing, biceps. Richie dropped his forehead onto his husbands, silent as he waited for Eddie to continue.

The smaller man didn’t dare look up, in fact he had to close his eyes to keep talking, “It was about stupid Patrick and Henry, you know when they tried drowning me in the sewer?” Slowly Richie’s hands came up from the counter, wrapping firmly around Eddie’s hips, the space between them continuously getting smaller.

The hitman's jaw clenched, throat going dry because he knew that dream was something more than a simple nightmare, it was a memory. They’d been so young, and the fear he’d felt for Eddie then only compared to the fear he felt when bastards at work mentioned him now.

Now he was more assured, now he was big and strong enough to protect Eddie, they even had phones they could track one another with, now they had actual fighting chances. When they were little, Richie had been too late, unaware of little Eddie’s plight until they miraculously ran into Henry, Patrick, and a more than traumatized Eddie before they nearly killed him.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie was already shaking his head as the words tumbled out, he didn’t accept his apologies then and he wouldn’t be accepting them now. Richie didn’t need to feel guilty for those two psychopaths' actions, especially when he had a fair share of abuse stemming from them as well.

In fact, Eddie knew in his heart that Richie did everything he could when the aftermath came and he couldn’t imagine recovering without that. Richie helped him calm down and bring him back to himself, and in turn when Richie was beaten bloody he was ready with first aid.

Mentally and physically, they had their bases covered.

“Don’t be dumb it’s not your fault I had a nightmare,” A bark followed soon after the words left Eddie’s lips, stopping a guilt addled comedian from retorting.

“You ready for his walk?” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss to his husband’s cheek who didn’t seem to be all there.

“Yeah,” Richie hummed absently, not making any move to step away, a very young and frightened Eddie flashing in his mind. 

“He’s waiting,” Eddie murmured, peppering kisses down an unmoving Richie’s jaw while stifling a yawn.

“Maybe I can take him and you stay and sleep?” The suggestion was soft, and Richie wasn’t sure how he choked it out without grinding his teeth, but he couldn’t help but want to herd Eddie back into bed.

“I don’t think I could go back to sleep without you,” Eddie stated as a matter of factly as he could, even when Richie knew he struggled to say it. Eddie had been forced with the perception that he was vulnerable all his life, and sometimes he feared that he was only adding to it by speaking his wants. They were working on it.

“We could always take him tom-”

“No, if we throw off his routine he’s going to get confused,” Neither wanted to argue and moved to get ready, Eddie very aware of his husband's gaze, especially when he was settling Chapstick in his harness.

* * *

“Oh no,” Richie murmured softly, as they came across the _for sale_ sign on Mitten’s home. A sympathetic look crossed Eddie’s face as he stared down at the dancing Chapstick, sticking his snout through the fence for the cat to play with.

“He’s going to be sad when he leaves,” Eddie dismayed, leaning into his husband's side.

“Maybe we’ll have to think about getting him a friend,” the suggestion wasn’t their favorite, something seemingly wrong about simply replacing their dogs somewhat lover.

“We’ll just have to wait and see I guess,” Eddie murmured, the two letting the dog and cat converge for longer than they normally would, there was no way of telling if this would be a goodbye, so they gave them time, and Eddie didn’t want to admit the breeze felt nice.

He needed the outside air.

Richie’s mind drifted as he watched the patter of Chapstick’s paws and the gentle licks from Mittens. Questions bubbling up. Where are Henry and Patrick now? Did they even care about what they did? Did they think back on hurting, nearly killing Eddie fondly?

Did they actually pay for what they did? No, no they didn’t because he wasn’t the one who dealt that punishment. And Eddie didn’t get any closure, in fact he was only met with more nightmares. 

He could find them, pull a few strings, no one would miss them. But would killing them be enough? Would he be able to make them suffer in the way they deserved? No, he definitely could, it was more of would he have the time and resources to do so without Eddie getting suspicious.

The hypochondriac had accepted his line of work and what he did, but Richie knew this wasn’t his typical hit, Eddie wouldn’t know that though. Killing Henry and Patrick isn’t something he wanted to keep from Eddie, sure Eddie never asked about who he was doing in, it’s just this was different. 

“Rich?” Eddie called softly, pulling a spaced out Rich out of his daze.

“You ready to stay in bed all day then?”

“Yeah, I think I am,”

* * *

Richie managed to get the locations of them both with one phone call while Eddie napped. Except one of the locations meant nothing to him, he wouldn’t be visiting Patrick’s grave, how had he not known the bastard had been put on death row?

With a simple google search Richie found out why, he’d killed his little brother. He could have killed Eddie, he could have killed any one of the losers including himself. Richie really didn’t care that the bastard had died per say, he only cared he didn’t have any part in it.  And Henry on the other hand, Derry asylum. The bastard hadn’t paid for his crimes at all, he’d been protected, likely by the father he’d ended up murdering.

It was time for Henry Bowers to die.

* * *

Sweat rolled off their skin as they coiled in the sheets, groans of pleasure echoing throughout the bedroom as Eddie clawed down Richie’s back. 

“You sure you really have to go for a week?” Eddie complained, sucking a rather large hickey into the juncture of the comedians throat.

“Yeah baby, but I’ll leave you something bye,” Richie replied with a round of husky laughter, snapping his hips hard enough to have his lover shuddering and clinging to him almost helplessly.

“That’s not funny,” Eddie protested weakly, not ready for the morning when Richie would be leaving.

“Mmm it’s hilarious,” Richie groaned, smashing his lips against his husbands. 

* * *

The hardest part had been sneaking the bastard out of the asylum, luckily the cops here didn’t seem to care much at all about the missing man, or maybe they just hadn’t noticed. No one in this town seemed to notice much of anything.

Henry’s body rocked back and forth in the trunk, wriggling in distaste and failing to flail properly from within his restraints. The pleasure Richie had gotten from beating the bastard enough to tie him up literally gave him a high.  Adrenaline fuelled him as they pulled up to the barrens, opening the trunk Richie less than gently grabbed the back of the man’s mullet and yanked him from the trunk with enough pressure to take out a few patches of hairs.

“Do you remember me? I doubt you fucking do,” Richie bit, undisturbed by the rocks under his feet as he dragged the fat fuck throughout the dirt.

“I’m the faggot you outed at the arcade, but if you don’t remember me well you might remember Eddie. You might remember when you and Patrick did this to Eds. You tied him up until his circulation nearly cut off, you shoved him in the trunk of Patrick's trans am, and then you tried drowning him in the sewer because you knew it’d make his skin crawl,”

It was clear from the man’s eyes alone that he remembered, maybe all too clearly and with far too much enjoyment. 

“How much grey water do you think you can drink without throwing it all back up?” Richie ripped off the tape before plunging the man’s head deep under the surface, pulling him up for only half a second so the bastard would inhale before plunging him back in; the water rushing down his constricting throat.

Using a gag this time, Richie sealed his mouth shut, chaining Henry up to the nearest drainage pipe.

“Managed to pick this up with your belongings, who knew they’d let you keep a murder weapon?” Richie tossed the knife that’d torn through Ben’s stomach between his hands, plunging it into the fat of the bastards thigh.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for you to die, or even what will kill you. The shit in your lungs and blood may due you in, maybe hunger or dehydration or even the weather alone. I don’t really care, so long as you suffer,"

“Oh, and a mullet really? Grow the fuck up dude,”

* * *

Eddie watched his husband dance around the kitchen with a smile on his face, all too knowing of what had been done. He'd had a hunch about it, and well...he wasn’t really asleep when Richie had made the call, he’d been half asleep, but aware enough to know what was happening.

If he was being honest, it’d actually made him sleep better.

_ “I bless the rain’s down in Africa, _ ” Richie bellowed, slamming the pots into the sink with his usual gleeful vigor. With Richie home safe, and Henry and Patrick dead and gone, Eddie couldn’t be happier, and well, if he pounced on Richie, keeping him in bed for nearly a full twenty four hours after that, Richie didn’t seem to be complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> snap: allisonw1122  
> tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> insta: webtrinsic


End file.
